Night of the Nutcracker
by Nevada11
Summary: My take on the night of the Nutcracker ballet.


Title: Night of the Nutcracker - Major Crimes  
Author: Nevada11  
Characters: Sharon Raydor, Andy Flynn, Rusty Beck  
Rating: PG  
Synopsis: My take on the night of the Nutcracker Ballet

As had become his habit over the last four months, the first thing Rusty did as he entered Sharon's office was to close the blinds. Well maybe not the first thing. The very first thing he did was slam her office door.

On the telephone, Sharon frowned at him and motioned for him to sit down. He flopped down in the large green chair, only to immediately jump to his feet and begin pacing the office.

"Yes, Chief. As soon as I have the holiday work schedule finalized, I'll email it to you. Right, no overtime this year. I'll try to ignore those off-hour murders." She hung up the phone and gave the teen her full attention. Her team had closed the country club murder about two hours earlier and they were all in the Murder Room, finishing up paperwork.

"Rusty, I'm the only one who gets to slam my door. Do it again and you're going to be—"

"What?" With a snap, he released the two blinds that he'd bent apart in order to peek into the murder room at his protection detail. "I'm going to be what? Cause I gotta say, Sharon, that doing anything is better than what I have been doing. Go ahead give it your best shot. Punish me. Pleeeease."

She sighed. "Shouldn't you be studying for midterms? Just because you can't go to class doesn't mean—"

"It's Christmas vacation, Sharon. I can't study 24/7." He turned his back to her and parted the blinds again. "Hey, what's wrong with Lieutenant Flynn? He's pacing around like he's in big trouble. Is he?"

"Is he what?" She got to her feet and walked over to stand behind Rusty.

"In big trouble." Rusty opened the crack between the blinds wider. "Look at him. Think maybe he's drinking that cleanse stuff again?"

"No." She suspected Andy's problem was a lot more complicated that an overdose of caffeine. Not a half hour earlier he'd given her that cock and bull story about the cost of leotards and needing her ballet advice for his daughter. She'd accepted his invitation to dinner and the Nutcracker fully aware that he wasn't being truthful with her about the situation.

"He's dealing with some family issues. The holidays are hard for a lot of people."

"Yeah, I know." Rusty shrugged. "This is my first real Christmas. My mom never...she didn't like... I think the holidays reminded her of everything she didn't have."

"She had you," Sharon said, her imagination filling in the blanks. Life in general with his birth mother had probably been a very bleak affair, much less during the holidays. She'd suspected as much when Rusty had offered to help put up her Christmas decorations. It wasn't the offer so much as the timing that had surprised her. The day after Thanksgiving he'd inquired about how big a tree they could fit in the condo and where her ornaments were kept. When Rusty had run out of places to hang tinsel in her home, Lieutenant Provenza had turned him loose in the Major Crimes offices with a half dozen dusty boxes of stored decorations from his garage. The Murder Room had never been merrier.

"I don't think..." The teen shifted uncomfortably, half turning from the window to face her. "My mother didn't—"

"Rusty," Sharon put a hand on his shoulder, her voice firm. "She had you and that was a lot, trust me."

He tried hiding a smile but failed.

* * *

"I don't need a babysitter, Sharon. There are two cops outside in the hallway. Two cops down in the lobby and now you want to put one on the sofa with me? Give me a break! I thought you said Buzz was coming over."

She didn't look up. The clasp on her favorite bracelet was giving her problems. Or maybe she was just nervous. Rusty's whining about the last minute change in the security arrangements wasn't helping.

"Buzz's sister surprised him with a visit. I thought you liked Detective Sanchez."

Rusty walked over to where she was standing next to the kitchen bar. "He doesn't talk, Sharon."

"It's only for a few hours." She fumbled with the delicate gold chain and accidently dropped the bracelet to the wooden floor.

"I got it," Rusty mumbled. "Here, hold out your arm."

She smiled and looked on as he fastened it. "Thank you."

"I don't know why you and Lieutenant Flynn don't eat here. It's not like you're going on a date or anything. I ordered plenty of pizza."

"Rusty!" She sighed. "Listen, Detective Sanchez has generously offered to take you and your security detail to the movies if you want to get out. I understand some blockbuster superhero movie is opening tonight. That _is _what you and Buzz had planned to do, isn't it?"

Without waiting for a response Sharon walked down the hallway into her bedroom. Rusty trailed behind her.

She stood in front of her dresser and checked out her appearance. The dark green silk cocktail dress and black beaded jacket was perfect for the event. She smoothed the skirt down and made sure her slip wasn't hanging out.

"Sharon, uh ..."

Her eyes met his in the mirror.

"Yes?" She watched his changing expressions in the mirror: guilt, embarrassment, lightbulb moment, then annoyance.

Rusty narrowed his eyes. "Buzz played me? He just pretended we were breaking the rules by going out when he came over? There was probably undercover security following us around everywhere we went. You knew the whole time, didn't you?"

"Honey, I know everything. Would you have enjoyed the outings as much if you'd known they were officially sanctioned?" She smiled. "Consider the faux jail breaks early Christmas presents."

"That's just so...," Rusty frowned, "Twisted." He crossed his arms. "I feel used."

When she didn't comment, he added, "So when's Detective Flynn picking you up? I don't want to be late to the movies."

* * *

"Want to split a dessert?" Andy asked, putting down the menu on the white linen tablecloth. "They have an incredible chocolate cake and they make their own ice cream."

As promised Andy Flynn had taken her to dinner before the ballet "for all her trouble." The well-known steak house was an odd choice for a "self-identified" vegetarian, but Andy had confessed that he'd fallen off the leafy-green wagon after his fainting episode. At his physician's urging he was now eating fish and chicken – and even a steak every month or so.

Sharon enjoyed the meal and the adult dinner conversation, but wondered what other confessions she might get out of Andy before the evening was over.

"I hear the apple pie is good if you don't want chocolate."

"I love chocolate cake, but I don't want to split one," Sharon answered, eyes twinkling. "I want my own. With coffee please."

"Okay, if you're sure." Andy chuckled and waved the waiter over. "They don't skimp on the portions, but anything you can't eat, you can always take home to the kid. In fact I'll order him a slice too."

Sharon smiled and contemplated Andy's overly cheerful attitude. In the day since he'd asked her to the ballet, she'd spent some time thinking about him and his quest to reunite with his estranged children. She was guessing that her role in tonight's event was the same as it had been at his daughter's wedding—a buffer. His interactions with his family had gone well during the wedding so she didn't understand why he was so nervous about attending the ballet, why he was being so evasive when she questioned him about it.

The next half hour was spent with Andy regaling her with tales of his children when they were toddlers and later when they were in grade school. He clearly loved his kids, but judging from the predominance of Little League stories and Disneyland adventures, his relationship with them appeared to have ended decades ago. Making up for the lost time was going to be impossible. Those missing years were gone forever. But she didn't think he quite realized that yet.

Finishing her coffee, she considered advising him to concentrate on creating new bonds with them—relating to them as the adults they were now. But since she'd had no success giving the same advice to Jack, she kept her thoughts to herself.

"We should probably leave for the theater now," Andy suggested, handing his credit card to the waiter. "Nicole said they'd wait for us in the lobby near the front entrance after she got the kids settled backstage."

* * *

"Aren't you going to say anything?" Andy risked a glance at her as he pulled out of the crowded parking garage.

"No." She continued to look out the passenger window of his car. What an evening! She'd gotten quite a surprise at intermission. And her "date" wasn't over yet. The line of vehicles snaking towards the freeway entrance was moving excruciatingly slowly. She supposed that letting Andy take her home was yet another mistake in a long line of mistakes she'd made with him. She should have insisted on taking a cab but she hadn't wanted to make a scene in front of his family.

"Sharon, you shouldn't bottle up your emotions. My therapist says..." He stopped when he saw her reach into her purse and pull out her handgun, resting it on her thigh. "He's not always right, though."

She looked down at her gun with a grim smile. During the last thirty years there were very few occasions when she wasn't armed. Fewer still after she'd transferred to Major Crimes. And never since the letters had begun arriving. Her world was a dangerous, crazy place. There were all kinds of nuts running around loose. One of them was driving her home.

"What the hell were you thinking? Telling your family that we were involved?" Her voice was louder than she'd intended. "And worse still, letting me walk into that situation, completely unprepared."

"I admit I made a mistake. I forgot that women go to the restrooms in packs! What's with that anyway? You guys were in there at least a half hour."

"Don't change the subject!" She glared at him. "I was totally blindsided with our supposed intimate relationship. Your daughter thinks we're on the brink of an engagement. And your ex-wife...she... Your ex-wife felt it necessary to elaborate on all your sexual shortcomings. She offered up a few tips. I have to say the news of my marriage came as a bit of a shock to both of them."

"Sexual shortcomings? What? Wait...you told them you were married? Oh, hell." Andy groaned. "There goes Christmas."

She sighed. "No, Andy, I didn't tell them. But I should have." She slid her gun back in her purse. "I can't believe you put me in this position. They want to do lunch next week and who knows what else."

"Really?" Andy asked, an expression of relief crossing his features. "You didn't tell them? Thanks, Sharon. Now I really owe you—"

"Just stop." She crossed her arms and stared out at the traffic jam. "I think you owe me an explanation. Now."

"Okay, but I swear I didn't plan it. After the wedding they just assumed we were together. My ex remarked that...But I didn't...Hey, can we go back to those imaginary shortcomings? She actually said that? Because I never...there were no—"

"Andy, just watch where you are going! It's starting to rain. I'd like to get home sometime tonight."

"Perfect. My luck keeps going from bad to worse. I'm going to try a short cut or we'll be stuck here forever." He managed a quick right hand turn, down a side street, and picked up some speed. "It's just that things were going so well with my family since the wedding, and they all loved you. Really, Sharon, they loved you. I didn't want to rock the boat. My kids were both talking to me instead of avoiding my calls for a change. Then Nicole invited me to see her stepsons dance and insisted I bring you. I was trapped. I never thought things would get so out of hand."

Sharon sighed. "What exactly did you expect to happen when they met me again? How did you see this charade ending?"

"I don't know. I didn't think it through. Provenza warned me it was a bad idea." He made another turn. "I was just trying to get through the holidays. It's been years since Nicole and Scott said more than two words to me. I didn't want to ruin it. Have you ever wanted something so badly that you'd do almost anything to get it?"

"Pretending to date me is on a par with 'doing almost anything'?"

"No. I didn't mean it like that. It's just you're way outside my league." He glanced at her. "I'm not sorry for spending time with you. But I'm really sorry I got you involved with my family issues. Especially now. You have enough on your plate with Rusty and that damn stalker."

Sharon shrugged. "My life is suddenly very full. Speaking of Rusty, I need to check on him. Julio was taking him to the movies. They should be home by now." She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket. "I don't have any bars. No cell service? That's odd."

A detour "road closed" sign appeared in front of them.

Andy made another turn. The area appeared to be undergoing some major renovations.

Sharon squinted at the half-finished buildings as their car passed by them. "Where are we? I don't recognize this area."

"Just east of the expressway. It's this new construction that's the problem with your phone. Cell towers being relocated. But there should be another on-ramp around here somewhere."

Sharon frowned, glancing from her phone to the poorly lit industrial area outside. "You don't have GPS?"

"Are you kidding? I'm lucky to have air conditioning in this heap. Remember I'm usually driving a department vehicle." He made another left hand turn in response to a second detour sign. "Don't worry, I know this city. I can find my way around blindfolded or...drunk. In the old days I—"

"Don't." She gave him a long look. "Stop beating yourself up over the past. I appreciate how hard you have worked to change your life. Believe me I know it couldn't have been easy. And for your information dating you isn't outside my anything. But if I may offer some advice?"

"Sure. Say whatever you want." He frowned as the street they were driving veered to the north, mumbling, "We might need to turn around, head back the way we came."

"Andy! You need to find a way to stop looking backwards and move forward."

"Is that advice on my life or my driving?"

"Your life." She laughed. "Maybe your driving too."

"Yeah? No going back? Even if I don't know where I'm going?" He grinned and motioned towards the dark road in front of them, another detour sign blocking their path. "At this rate we could end up anywhere."

Sharon smiled. "In that case you should pull over and let me drive for a while."

* * *

"It's four a.m. Did you just get home?" Rusty stumbled into the kitchen half awake. He found Sharon and Andy sitting at the bar, laughing, drinking hot tea and eating leftover chocolate cake.

"I'm sorry, honey. Did we wake you?" Sharon pointed towards the refrigerator with her fork. "We brought you some cake."

Rusty grinned, then promptly opened the refrigerator door, disappearing from view. His voice muffled, he said, "Great! Thanks. Although it's almost time for breakfast. Must have been some ballet, huh? Did you two get lost somewhere?"

Sharon glanced at Andy and smiled. "No, not yet. Just ran into a few detours."

The end


End file.
